


Do Not Go Gentle

by imyourplusone



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Poisoned Red, continuation of 4x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9984707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imyourplusone/pseuds/imyourplusone
Summary: Do not go gentle into that good night.Rage, rage against the dying of the light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post 4.15 picking up immediately following Red and Lizzy's last phone call. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

_No, it can't be._

_Talk to me. Who poisoned you?_

"Reddington, are you there? Reddington?"

But Liz knows he has disconnected even as she repeats his name with the panic rising in her voice, tightening her throat and making her breath come in uneven gasps. Much like his when she last saw him and the thought has her bringing a hand to her head.

Think. Slow down and think. Only two had access to the bottle.

Only two.

And where there is one, there is always the other. Except today. She feels a chill run up her spine with the realization that something is terribly wrong, even more terrible than the poisoning. It can't be. Just like he said, it simply cannot be.

No, now is not the time. What is the next step? Focus on that and nothing more.

She hits redial and listens, waiting, willing him to pick up the damn phone. When it switches to voicemail, she mutters a curse and immediately dials again and counts the rings as they come.

One. Two.

_Reddington, please-_

Three. Four.

_Pick up._

Five. Six.

_Please._

"Hello?"

"Red- wait who is this?"

The relief is gone in an instant realizing it is not his voice. The voice she would know anywhere and why isn't it on the other end?

"Elizabeth, is that you? It's Marvin. Marvin Gerard. Look I don't know what is-"

"Marvin listen to me, tell me where you are," she exclaims, her voice rising every second as the panic to reach him returns in full force. "He's sick and I need to get there."

A blur of words and instructions. The apartment in Bethesda and no she already has the address, just wait there. She is coming for him. Confusion as he stumbled from the room and now the bedroom door is locked. Just wait there, I'm on the way.

The trembling that won't stop and Aram knows and holds her arms steady until she ends the call. She hears herself speaking but can't make out her own words. They must make sense though as the doctor springs into action and the equipment they will need is gathered and readied for transport.

He won't like it. All these people descending on the apartment that contains his treasures. The permanent one that will no longer be a secret. There is barely a hesitation, though. This is the next step and what choice does she have?

She must get to him and keep him alive.

* * *

One last glimpse of Cooper and Aram watching her drive away from the boxing gym and Liz turns her eyes forward. Not stopping to wait for the doctor and nurse that will follow, she simply gave Aram the address and rushed from the building, trusting him with Reddington's location.

There is no recollection of speeding through the city streets. Nothing registers but this unexplainable sense of urgency far beyond the medical crisis that settles deep within her. Achingly familiar as the crack of the rifle echoes in her ears as loud as that day when she watched him fall to the ground before her. The blood everywhere and the sound of his labored breathing. So similar to today except this time the destruction was contained within.

Twice now she has watched him fight for his life through the distortion of the plastic. Wondering if he would be there the next day and the day after that. The anger and betrayal bitter in her mouth but the alternative much worse than she could ever imagine.

No matter their history she had never wanted it to come to this. Had never wanted to hurt him the day it was his turn to stand watch over her and she closes her eyes to the nausea that comes with the guilt. She's never been able to tell him how sorry….

The honking of a horn from behind brings her back to the present and she crosses the intersection intent on regaining her focus. Doesn't let any other thoughts intrude until she is pulling to the curb in front of the understated Bethesda address.

She is not sure what she expected to find but certainly not this eerie silence. None of Reddington's men to be seen and there is a sinking feeling as she rushes into the building, finding it just as deserted as the street below.

Instinctively she puts her hand to the holster at her side but holds off drawing the weapon and slows after ascending the stairs as she approaches his door not wanting to alert anyone within of her arrival. Why is there no one standing guard outside? What is worse is finding that the knob turns with ease beneath her hand and the sound of raised voices as she enters.

However, once inside, she finds it isn't _voices_ but only Marvin standing at what she presumes is Reddington's bedroom, calling for him to unlock the door.

"Marvin-"

But he doesn't give her a chance to continue and seems to start the conversation mid sentence.

"...brought me here and accused me of what, I don't know, until…"

Shaking the locked door again, he calls out to be let in and is met with silence.

"...gave Baz the scotch and now I can't find anyone…"

Knocking on the door but again there is no response.

"...untied me and locked himself in…"

Before he can continue the ritual, Lizzy intercedes with her own voice calling out, her fist pounding on the solid wood. Pressing her ear to the door she hears nothing and god, if she's too late.

"Marvin, on three throw your weight against the door."

"I tried that, don't you think I've tried-"

"Shut up and do it again!"

He shuts up and on three the two break through the obviously reinforced door with a resounding crash.

Her eyes fall immediately to his form stretched across the bed at an angle and for a moment she thinks….but no, she sees the movement of his chest. Not as distressed as before but enough that she is already calculating how far behind the doctor should be by now.

She trips on his winter coat discarded on the floor as she rushes to the bed and reaches out to shake his shoulder. _Reddington._ No response. _Reddington!_ Louder now and with greater force but still no response.

She and Marvin work together, simply running on instinct at this point. Adrenaline fueling them as they roll him on his back, pulling him into a sitting position.

"Reddington, wake up!"

Nothing, just the sound of his labored breathing. His cheek is clammy under her hand as she raises his head trying to gain a response.

"Raymond, open your eyes!"

Marvin this time and the panic in his voice matches her own.

"How does he breathe in all these damn layers? Marvin, help me."

Jacket, vest, shirt. One by one discarded in a pile at their feet, leaving only his undershirt. Propping several pillows behind him, they ease him back and he seems to immediately breathe easier.

"Help me with these," she says reaching for his belt, but glancing at the other man she notices the obvious hesitation. "You're joking?"

"Elizabeth, I don't think it's necessary…"

Recalling how he left the Post Office earlier this morning and just a short while ago disappearing from the triage unit after barely being stabilized and she gives the belt a yank, harder than probably needed to proceed.

"Oh yes, it is necessary. He is going to stay here and receive medical care if I have to remove every stitch of clothing from this place. Look, why don't you go down and wait for the doctor. They were leaving right behind me."

Marvin doesn't argue and makes a hasty retreat from the bedroom.

There is a surge of anger at his stubbornness and refusal of treatment that she attempts to dampen given his illness. One thing is certain, however, he is not leaving this apartment until the doctor gives the all clear.

She proceeds with the task in an orderly, clinical manner and is more than a little grateful he is passed out. Shoes first, then pants and tries to ignore the intimacy of the moment before grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed to tuck around his body.

Finally, the flurry of activity is over. There is nothing else to do but wait for the code 77 team that should arrive shortly. She stops to catch her breath and watches him from the foot of the bed, still fighting for his own but not appearing to worsen. They've reached him in time. Somehow they always seem to reach each other in time.

If he would only wake up and say something to her. Somehow communicate that he hears her but he does not stir and she wonders just then if it isn't the physical but the mental anguish that has brought on this collapse. The absence of the one that is always at his side too much to bear. The final straw and he fell under the weight of it.

She feels a tear escape but lets it fall unchecked and continues her observation without moving. It is surprising that he has never before seemed this vulnerable to her. Not after the shooting or kneeling in front of Yaabari or the thousand other times they were in danger. Nothing compares to this silent retreat within himself.

"Redding….."

God, she hates this formality between them. The pain from all the things they can't take back, all the mistakes they've made driving them further apart. All her own mistakes that crowd her mind these days and she has no words to make them right. Doesn't even know where to begin.

She only knows what she so desperately needs.

"Raymond, don't go. Please don't go."

A whisper only for him with the strongest hope he will somehow hear her.

Closing her eyes she listens to the silence, willing the medical team to arrive, but there is only the sound of their breaths almost in sync now.

"Elizabeth."

With a gasp she looks to him but he doesn't appear to have moved. The paleness of his skin and short breaths the same but his furrowed brow the first sign of a change. Did she imagine it?

Taking a tentative step to the side of the bed, she pauses a moment unsure of herself. Strange that she can all but undress him one minute but finds the act of comforting him the next so difficult when it is only the two of them in the stillness. All she has known for longer than she cares to remember is anger and hurt and the gnawing guilt. Except now, watching him, she feels none of it. It seems to drain away leaving only a profound exhaustion for having carried it so long.

She forces her body to move and sits beside him. Doesn't really know how to take this next step but she hesitantly places her palm on his cheek and offers the pressure of her hand on his arm wanting to convey her presence. Wanting to comfort him as he has done for her all those times before. A small step.

"Raymond, I'm here."

Her hand cautiously moving from his arm to the rise and fall of his chest, thankful for it, labored though it is.

"Can you hear me?"

Her voice a little stronger now and without thinking she draws his hand out from under the blanket to hold between her own as he seems to stir.

"Elizabeth."

A raspy whisper barely audible but it is just for her. Only for her to hear and it feels like a gift.

"Yes, that's it. Talk to me."

She moves closer, all hesitancy gone. His hand gripped tightly in hers, anchoring them together until the others arrive. No thought now of awkwardness as her other hand reaches across his chest to hold him close and she will remain this way until Marvin enters a short time later ahead of the medical personnel.

She has no idea then the long night stretched before her or the number of times her name will be uttered on his lips. She only knows in that moment she won't let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say a big thank you for the comments and kudos. Hope you enjoy!

He feels very far away from nowhere at all.

Drifting on a calm sea, awash in neither darkness nor light. There is only silence and no recollection of what brought him here. With every gentle swell he feels the distance grow between himself and all that came before.

What it is, he doesn't know nor wants to.

It is painful, whatever it is, and this space between is comforting. There is no need to go back and he is content to let the current take him.

Only…

There is one memory that lingers, pulls at him, just at the edges of his mind. He can't let it go. For the first time there is a trace of fear that it will be lost to him and the fear leaves him to ripple across the sea.

If he can only find the memory he needs and leave all the rest. All the painful images that will drown him here if he allowed their entrance.

There it is.

Just out of reach, but so close he feels the warmth of it. A face with a pair of striking eyes. A smile that is the rarest of gifts. A name that will follow him forever.

_Elizabeth._

* * *

The hand on her arm alerts her to Marvin's presence in the room. She has been listening for the sound of the medical team since first arriving at the apartment but sitting here holding Raymond's hand with her name a whisper on his lips and their entrance is lost to her.

She jumps slightly and looks over to his look of sympathy. "Elizabeth, we need to make room for the others."

"He keeps calling to me."

There is no use disguising the emotion from her voice. She couldn't if she tried. The tears are too close to the surface for that now.

"You need to tell me what is going on. Give them a few minutes to bring in their equipment."

"I'm not leaving this room."

The steel in her voice makes it pointless to argue but at his urging she reluctantly releases Raymond's hand and lets Marvin guide her a few feet away from the bed. It is enough to allow the doctor and nurse access to their patient and they immediately go to work.

Liz never takes her eyes from Raymond as she relays as best she can the events of the day. Poisoning, betrayal, his organization compromised, Dembe missing. Marvin listens, not speaking as his expression grows grimmer with every passing word.

"And when I didn't show up at the dinner he naturally suspected…."

They watch in silence as the oxygen is brought in along with an IV pole. The barest necessities to care for him here so that he won't need to be moved again. As the nurse begins unpacking the medication that will soon be flowing into his arm, the doctor calls over to where they stand, "Come help me so I can check his breathing."

Liz advances first and moves to the opposite side of the bed to assist. They lean him forward and she is hoping the movement will rouse him but he doesn't wake. She holds him steady by the shoulders as the doctor listens to his chest, moving the stethoscope across his back.

Her hands are digging into his skin as she concentrates on each breath that still seems so forced to her and fights the urge to shake him. If he would only open his eyes.

The doctor continues his exam and says almost to himself, "No progression. Hopefully he decides to stay and be treated-"

"He's staying one way or another," Liz declares and he nods in her direction.

"Okay, lets lean him back."

Reaching around to steady their movements, her hand brushes across bare skin where the undershirt was pulled up and she stops. Her mind immediately registering that something is wrong and also exactly what it is. Before her startled _wait a moment,_ before she moves around to his back, she already knows what she will find there.

_My god._

The chaos of mottled skin somehow makes perfect sense as the pieces come together in her mind. Her right hand trembles as she places her scar next to his damaged back. They are identical. Born from the same flame and here all this time just under the surface.

And as usual he never told her, but her flash of anger is brief. She never guessed either, never allowed herself to acknowledge the devastation of the fire reached beyond her family. She knew he was in the house, of course, but seeing his injury compared to hers and it's suddenly clear who was there as protector and who was protected.

It was easier to choose anger thus eliminating all possibility she would discover this connection any other way but by chance.

"Agent Keen?"

Marvin and Dr. Haverkamp are watching her and it seems one or both have already spoken to her without her hearing them. She moves once more from the bed and walks to the window turning her back on the activity behind her. Makes no response other than a simple nod of her head when Marvin tells her he will be in the living room doing damage control and securing Raymond's accounts.

She leaves him to it. Doesn't turn around as the IV is inserted and the medicine is administered. Only once does she speak asking why he doesn't wake.

"The effects of the poison certainly but also exhaustion. He should have been receiving care all day and he's fortunate his symptoms aren't worsening."

Her hand rubs at the scar on her wrist as she stares out the window at nothing. Exhaustion added to his fear over Dembe. This is the true reason for his retreat into darkness.

There is no sound, the shaking of her body the only sign of the tears that fall.

* * *

Her name washes over him, bathing him in warmth. It is the only name he knows. Her face the only image he sees in this strange place.

The sea returns to calm and there is once again the sensation of the current beneath him.

But finding her image fading as he moves further away, he resists its pull and calls to her.

_Elizabeth, don't go._

* * *

She jumps at her name and turns from the window to return to his side. He hasn't spoken since before the doctor arrived and that has been hours now.

Hours in which they have cared for him and monitored his breathing as it steadily improved. The lab working to improve the antidote after receiving the tainted scotch and delivered to the apartment by Aram.

It is now only herself and Raymond as the middle of the night approaches. The way she wanted it, telling the nurse to sleep as there was nothing more to do. Telling Marvin to go home to Becky. Baz has returned to protect them through the night and she is comforted knowing he is out there.

Sleep is an impossibility as she paced the room, returned to the window time and again or sat by his side hoping he would wake. The doctor's last words before leaving for the night meant to alleviate her fear. _It is exhaustion more than anything. He needs rest._

It's true, she knows, but there is an unexplainable certainty that he's leaving her, unable to come back to all this….mess. She is desperate to reach him. With every touch of her hand she is willing him back, but there has been no sign he heard her until his words almost too faint to hear.

An echo of hers from earlier, telling him not not leave as she fears he might. She moves to his side taking his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

It is repeated as a mantra as the hours pass and her name occasionally falls from his lips, until gradually she can only whisper the one thing she so desperately wants him to hear.

_Don't go._

Their message to each other across this great divide.

The exhaustion is overwhelming as dawn approaches. She hasn't closed her eyes all night for fear he would need her, until finally there is no energy left. The fear surrounds her and she fights to stay awake not wanting to sleep. Afraid of what will be waiting for her when she opens her eyes.

The tears so close to the surface now come again as she makes one final plea.

"Raymond, come back to me. Please don't go."

With his hand in hers, she leans her head against his chest and falls into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

She is close. So very close.

Surrounded by the memories he doesn't want here. The painful thing he pushes from his mind. He can't have one without the other and to lose her is unimaginable.

The current is no longer pulling him. She is somewhere against its flow and he will not leave her.

Moving toward where she calls to him he feels himself growing closer to what he never wants to know. The pain that brought him to this place but he will endure it to reach her.

He must reach her.

* * *

His eyes open to find himself in his bed in the small apartment. Confusion fogs his mind but there is no sense of danger. Only an incredible fatigue the likes of which he hasn't felt in a long time.

There is the sense of having traveled a great distance to return here, but from where he can barely remember.

He becomes aware of a slight heaviness at his side, not uncomfortable, but enough that he senses another's presence. Looking over he sees the top of her head resting on his chest.

How she came to be here he can't possibly imagine but that feeling of relief having reached the end of a great journey comes to him once more.

He reaches out to softly place his hand on her hair and she immediately stirs. Looking up to find him watching her, there is so much she wants to say but has no idea where to begin.

It is enough that he is awake. That he is here with her.

As if reading her mind he whispers, "I came back for you."

It seems this is all he has energy for and drifts off again but not so far away this time, she is sure of it. Their hands are still linked and she hugs them close as she lays her head on his chest as before. He came back for her and the emotion runs too deep to fully understand it just then. His words calm her though, and not wanting to leave him, she closes her eyes to sleep. Deeper this time with the assurance of what will be waiting when she wakes again.

They won't hear the nurse's quiet entrance at daybreak or see her smile seeing them there. Quietly adding a new bag of the antidote that his body still needs and lightly checking the pulse at his wrist is her only activity. Slipping from the room, she lets them be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Two full chapters of Red sleeping, but see it's like this. I intended to wake Red up but I took a nap and dreamed of Red in limbo and also the first line of this chapter. So I decided to let him take a little break and make the decision to return to Lizzy. He'll wake up for real in the next, I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

He is awake long before he decides to open his eyes. It is daylight and this feels like his bed in the little apartment. That part of the hazy memory swimming in his mind is at least correct. Slowly moving his arm to the side he finds only an empty space where he imagines her curled against him, her head on his chest.

It seemed so real but with the confusion still lingering, he is well on his way to convincing himself it never happened. Still his eyes remain closed, preferring to keep what must have been a dream alive a little longer. Just a few additional minutes where he can hold the thoughts of the poisoning and Dembe at bay.

He notices it then. The faint sound of water running and from the direction of his bath most likely. But surely that can't be…

Finally his eyes open to the full light of day and he squints at the brightness. There is a little pinch at his elbow and without looking he knows the IV is still attached and the oxygen is flowing to assist his breathing. It must be working. There is no denying he feels remarkably better. Weak but alive and twenty four hours ago this seemed like an impossibility.

The water has stopped and after a few minutes, Lizzy emerges. She doesn't yet realize he's awake giving him a second or two to observe her. With her damp hair pulled back and wearing one of his tee shirts over her jeans, it seems she made use of his closet as well as his shower after passing the night by his side.

The dream is in fact reality and he couldn't be more surprised. But then this is Lizzy and she is one of the few with that ability.

And just like that she glances his way and finds him observing her. Her relief is obvious. The way she draws the air into her lungs and the smile that forms as she exhales. Like she's been holding her breath waiting for him.

"You scared me to death."

Well that is not what she had intended to say, but at least they can start with the truth if nothing else. There is pain in his expression now and she's not sure if it's physical or the result of her candor.

Taking a step toward the bed she says quickly, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

Their words are spoken at the same time, his coming out in a hoarse whisper. They watch each other for a moment or two before she comes to his side of the bed to sit and try again, "No, I'm sorry. I'm just so relieved you're awake."

"How long—"

"—have you been sleeping?" she finishes for him. "Around fourteen hours."

He is shaking his head in disbelief as he attempts to rise, but his efforts are stopped by her hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, you're not going anywhere I'm afraid."

But he continues to resist her and she continues not to budge.

"Lizzy, let me up. Dembe…"

He is becoming more and more agitated, first with her preventing him from rising and second the weakness that makes it apparent he'd have trouble standing on his own in the first place.

"Raymond."

His name so quiet on her lips and he stills immediately to focus once again on her face as the strangest sense of déjà vu takes hold. It's only the second time she has used his given name but somehow hearing it again, it seems achingly familiar. Closing his eyes he searches his mind, trying to piece together the scattered images since the poisoning but little makes sense. There is simply the feeling of having slipped away and pulling himself back to her.

"You called to me," he realizes and although there is no memory he is certain of it.

He opens his eyes to her confusion.

"What—"

"I heard you. I'm almost certain I heard you."

At least they can start with the truth.

"I did. You called to me as well."

The second time in as many days he has been told this. That hers would be the last name on his lips is well known to him but somehow she held onto him. It must be so.

"I came back for you."

He repeats the words almost as a question when the memory stirs. Inching his hand towards hers, she meets it halfway and again they say nothing while the seconds tick away until….

"Yes."

"Yes."

Smiles this time as the words are again spoken in unison. Their affirmation of his choice to return but also her need to have him do so.

"We seem to be making that a habit," she says squeezing his hand.

He looks a little uncertain how to proceed which is very much how she feels and decides this is the moment to set the rules.

"Raymond, I want you to listen to me for once. You are staying here until the doctor releases you from his care. That is not up for discussion. I've taken all your pants and you're not getting them back until I say so."

He's speechless. He's also not used to being told what to do and furthermore he is speechless.

The muscle is jumping in his jaw and she doesn't really care as she smiles back at his scowl waiting for his response. Already anticipating him.

"You're jok—"

"Oh, I'm not joking in the least. I thought about moving all your suits but then realized I really only needed the pants."

She is looking very pleased with herself but the thought of laying here doing nothing hardly seems an option. Besides, there are other concerns to consider.

"Lizzy, I don't want to be the reason you're away from Agnes."

He's hit a nerve which is what he intended, but if he expected to annoy her enough to prompt her return home he is mistaken.

"Good try and although I know you mean that, it isn't going to work. Agnes is fine. I've already checked on her this morning and I'll be going home tonight to see her."

There is an ache in his chest that accompanies her words but this is what is best. This is what he should want after all and perhaps he is imagining the strain that entered her voice.

She won't mention the heated conversation that occurred only a short time ago. _Of course Agnes is more important_ but she feels no reason to explain her decision to stay with the man who saved her daughter's life. Who saved her own.

Wanting something to do to distract her from his searching gaze, she lets go of his hand to pour a glass of water from a pitcher on the side table. She helps him raise his head a little and he manages a few sips through the straw. It is heaven to his parched throat.

"Better?"

"Yes."

His voice is less raspy but noticeably weak even to his own ears. Just the exertion of their conversation is already taking what little energy he has.

"Now, the doctor is coming by after his morning rounds and we'll see what he says. The antidote is working better than they hoped, but there are several more doses yet to go. In the meantime if you're hungry there is fruit and not much else. I've had all the food in the place thrown out to be safe but Aram sent a fruit basket. Do you like papaya? Anyway I'll get an assortment. There are fresh underclothes already in the bathroom when you want to get up. Helen is still here and can help."

His head is spinning. She has stolen half his wardrobe and found his underwear drawer. Apparently the world turned upside down while he was asleep.

"Helen?"

"The nurse from the code 77 team. Anyway, I'm going to let her know you're awake."

She rises to walk out but stops and turns back toward him, placing her hands on the footboard. He is still watching her and still very much in shock at her presence here.

"Raymond, I know I can't make you stay until you're better. If you won't do it for yourself at least do it for me. I know I have no right to ask but I'm asking anyway. Trust me and let the rest go for now. Dembe, all of it. We'll figure it out later."

There is a tremble in her voice and her knuckles are white as she holds on for support, and suddenly he thinks about the night before. Her vigil at his side and to walk away from her now, he simply will not do.

"I'll stay, Elizabeth, and if you happen to have a bowl of fruit..."

A small laugh and after so long it feels wonderful to have anything to laugh about. "Well you're in luck then. And thank you."

"I think that's my line or so I've been told."

_When someone does something nice for you…._

Another time she saved him but his fear of losing her prevented him from telling her what it meant to him. Perhaps now they are getting closer to that place where they won't hurt each other anymore. He has no idea but something has changed. Some shift has occurred, there is no denying it. However precarious it may be, he will not disturb it.

She answers him with a smile and turns toward the door, calling over her shoulder as she goes, "Whoever told you that, you should listen to them more often."

His chuckle is the last thing she hears as she leaves the room.

He will not see her stop in the hallway beyond his door to lean against the wall or the hand that goes to her chest to steady her breathing. She won't see his own hand reach out to the place where only a few moments ago it was held in hers. They won't know just then that the same thought is crossing both their minds. He came back to her because she wouldn't let him go and how grateful they are for it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get this finished up before that most unlikely of blacklisters comes up on the list, Mr. Dembe Zuma himself. Who would have ever imagined? 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the conclusion and thanks for reading and commenting. It is greatly appreciated!

He stands at the entrance to his closet and cannot fathom how he slept through the ruckus. Suits in disarray, hangers askew and even the built-in dresser didn't escape the whirlwind that was Elizabeth. He had believed her, of course he did, but she had seemed amused and downright triumphant telling him of her heist. Not one pair of pants to be seen ensuring his continued presence and medical treatment.

In truth, all she would have had to do was ask him to stay. In his current weakened state he could hardly deny her anything.

_If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it for me._

How can he possibly leave her and at this point he's not sure where he would go. And so here he will remain until the physician says otherwise. He has given her his word.

But this chaos. Something about it causes a disquiet to settle in his chest. The pain is palpable and it is hers that he feels pressing into him. She was calm by the time she told him but there is a desperation in her actions that can't be denied. Fear. Anger. Nothing to do but grasp onto this one idea and give free rein to every emotion as she tore through the closet.

What else did she endure last night? He may never know and dammit why couldn't he have woken up and spared her this?

One day he may look back on this and laugh at its absurdity but not today. Not today.

What little energy he gained from Aram's fruit basket is fading fast. It was enough to allow him a few minutes disconnected from the IV for a quick shower and a change of clothes. The image of Lizzy in her frantic state has stolen his last reserves and he returns to the bedroom to sit on the bed.

She had left underclothes in the bathroom for him but nothing else and he is beginning to wonder if she'll be kind enough to return his robe when he sees a pair a pajama pants folded neatly waiting for him. A sign of a truce perhaps or a mark of trust but either way he is grateful.

A few minutes later there is a soft knock at the door and she waits to hear him call to her and enters to find him sitting at the foot of the bed with an arm looped around the footboard for support. She also doesn't miss the paleness of his skin or the tremble in his hands.

"Okay, your reprieve is at an end, I'm afraid. Back in bed before you fall over."

"Now Lizzy…"

One look has him exhaling in defeat as he moves the few feet to the head of the bed and climbs under the covers.

"Helen said we can leave the oxygen off for now until the doctor comes which should be anytime. Arm please."

"Excuse me?"

"Arm. The one with the IV." She doesn't wait for him to catch up as she takes it, reattaches the tubing from the bag of antidote and begins pressing all manner of buttons on the machine.

"Do you know how—"

"I do. I'm a fast learner and Helen was exhausted. I've sent her home for the rest of the day but she'll return tonight when it's time for me to go."

Again the reminder that in a few short hours she'll be gone and they will resume their lives as before. But how can that be? He cannot imagine returning to that life. The one with so much distance between them that it is painful to recall.

He is watching her again as he did when she first spoke of leaving. When she couldn't quite meet his gaze or stop the nervous movements of her hands. And as before she finds herself looking anywhere but to those eyes that seem to see right through her. She runs her fingers lightly over the place at his elbow where the needle enters, smooths the blanket covering him until his hand reaches out to still her movements.

"Are you alright?"

Why there should be a sudden tightening of her throat she doesn't understand. She cannot fathom why the thought of leaving causes an ache deep within that she has no words to describe. Why it is completely separate from her daughter whom she misses and longs to see, but there nonetheless.

"I think that's my line."

An attempt to lighten the mood, to stop herself from tilting off balance but of course he knows. She has yet to meet the question in his eyes and simply watches the hand resting over her own.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?"

Finally she forces her eyes upward until they meet his and she can think of no other response.

"I don't know."

Honesty if nothing else as the thought reenters her mind. If they can begin with the truth, as painful as it might be, they may just make it through...whatever this is to wherever they are going. She has no more energy for evasion and wonders how they haven't drowned under the weight of it all this time.

He makes no response. Has nothing to offer as he has finally run out of answers.

There is a commotion in the hall signaling the arrival of the doctor and Lizzy starts to rise from where she sits next to him but the pressure of his hand stops her.

"Well, Mr. Reddington, what a difference a day makes."

She stays as vital signs are checked, questions are answered. Doesn't quite know what to do as Raymond leans toward her allowing the doctor to assess his breathing.

"I should go," she whispers wanting to spare him this.

"Stay, Lizzy."

He grips her hand even tighter and she does not resist. Remains with him because that is his wish and perhaps this is the only way he can begin to tell her the story written across his back.

"Mr. Reddington, did you sustain injury to your lungs when you were burned? The poison attacked your respiratory system although the antidote is working better than I could have hoped."

"No injury that I am aware."

His eyes never leave hers and it is as he thought. She already knows.

"We're at a good place treatment-wise. I'll have the nurse pull the IV tomorrow morning then I'll need you back at the triage unit for a chest x-ray. We'll see where we are at that time."

With that he is gone as quickly as he came and they find themselves in exactly the same place. Only the unspoken has been spoken of and there is no going back from it.

"You could have told me."

"Yes."

"You should have told me."

There is no accusation in her words, no anger as he has heard so many times. Just the regret that perhaps they could have arrived at this moment much earlier.

"Yes."

"I'm glad we got that settled then." A small smile that he returns, grateful for her humor at this moment.

"I should also have realized or made it easier to say," she continues quietly.

"Elizabeth, I find there is an impossibility in speaking of certain things."

To speak them, to hear them? To know they are real if given a voice? Yes, she knows all about impossible words.

"But you must know we can't continue as we've been. They are my ghosts, too. Can you let me in enough to at least share them?"

He drops his gaze to their hands and gently turns hers over revealing the damage underneath. She doesn't pull away as he runs his thumb across the proof that he was unable to truly shield her from the hell around them. He did his best he supposes but it seeped into her life nonetheless and left its mark.

There is truth in what she says. They share the same ghosts just as surely as they bear the same scars. It has always been so.

She waits for him and where once there would be deflection, there is simply resignation. Out of all the times they've hurt one another they have still managed to find their way back but after this last day there is a fear that one day they may not. To lose her is another impossibility he has no wish to risk ever again.

"Yes, I can do that."

His eyes return to hers and the exhaustion is apparent. She nods and motions for him to lie back in order to rest which he does without protest.

But something gnaws at her. His answer should be enough but somehow it isn't and suddenly the reason is clear. She recalls the times he had tried to explain, offer information and she would not or could not hear him. The barriers between them were built stone by stone with both their hands.

"Raymond," she whispers, bringing him back for a moment. "I will listen this time."

There are no more words and he smiles and closes his eyes falling into sleep. He doesn't see her pause before rising to stare at the scar that now feels strangely cold. Doesn't see the fleeting confusion cross her face as she wonders why she should miss the warmth of his touch.

* * *

It is late afternoon by the time he wakes again and he lies there a few minutes listening to the silence. The apartment is so still he thinks perhaps she has already returned home. He couldn't really blame her, being away from Agnes for well over a day now. If only this exhaustion hadn't stolen the few hours he had left with her. Not forever, he knows, but before the outside world must be let back in.

He feels better after his rest and for the first time in days very nearly hungry. What little of the fruit he had managed to eat had been more for Lizzy's sake than anything. A burst of energy has him up and out of bed and on much more firm footing than when he first woke in the morning. Taking his IV pole to roll along with him to the living room, he decides to see what he can find by way of food or perhaps send Baz for supplies.

Then he sees her.

She is curled in his favorite chair and lightly dozing but wakes immediately when he enters the room as if she were listening for him. Looking over to where he stands she can't help but smile. Between the undershirt and pajama pants and medication running into his arm, he is far removed from the criminal mastermind in his thousand dollar suits. He seems younger, boyish even and almost shy as he falters just beyond the hallway.

"I'm sorry to wake you. I thought perhaps you had returned home as quiet as it was."

"Without saying goodbye? No, I wouldn't do that," she answers quietly and doesn't miss his sigh of relief. "Come in and sit and I'll heat us up an early dinner."

She gets up to move into the kitchen and hears him follow.

"You mean there's food? Thank god. I had visions of you tearing through the cupboards as you did my closet.

He is teasing her and she can't blame him with the current state of his wardrobe.

"Oh, I meant what I said. Everything was thrown out but granted in a somewhat more orderly fashion. I couldn't take the chance that something else was tainted or…"

It's hard to continue. Hard to put into words what is on everyone's minds and what none of them have spoken of since the discovery of the scotch.

"Anyway," she says, forcing herself to carry on as if they hadn't strayed into dangerous waters. "I sent Baz to the market while you were asleep. Also ordered take-out which should get you through a day or two. You need to take care of yourself after what's happened."

And what of the unknown danger lurking nearby? Not since Kirk or their time running has she felt this frisson of fear run up her spine. There is an enemy moving closer and closer and now she is leaving him.

"I don't want you to worry—"

"I already am worried, dammit!"

She's also exhausted and confused. Wants to stay but is pulled by thoughts of her daughter waiting for her.

"Lizzy…"

"No, don't _Lizzy_ me. I have a right to be worried so you'll have to deal with that."

He decides it's best to deal with that at the table while she bustles around the kitchen shutting cabinet doors and banging the pots a little too loudly. She's not angry, not really, he knows that. Her nerves are frayed the same as his and getting pulled tighter as it gets later in the day.

By the time dinner is ready she is back to her usual self and they share a quiet meal. Not much talking and neither feels up to finding some music to break the silence. It's no use and won't really distract them for what is to come.

She observes him not too pointedly, she hopes, and is relieved he is able to eat a normal dinner. There is color back in his cheeks and without the IV in his arm there would hardly be a sign anything is amiss.

"Go have a seat while I clean this up," she says when they have finished. When they have both looked at the clock more than once and noticed the light fading from the window.

Time is running out.

"Let me do that—"

"Look, the last thing I need is you strangling yourself with that IV tubing so go sit. I've got this."

He chuckles and she may be right as the bag of antidote hanging above him is beginning to be a damn nuisance not that he will ever complain.

She finds him a few minutes later in his leather chair with legs up on the ottoman. One that he is currently sharing with his cat. This is the first sighting she's had but wasn't too concerned this morning seeing the food Baz left out had been eaten in the night.

He's whispering a few words that she doesn't catch and as soon as Lizzy steps into the room it is gone again back to it's unknown hiding place.

"Sorry to interrupt," she laughs as she sits on the ottoman in the spot now vacant. "I looked everywhere for him earlier but never could find him."

"He's a she and yes, her whereabouts are generally a mystery."

"I was surprised when I came….that first time to see her here."

It seems every subject they go near is a painful one today as she thinks of the shooting once more. Dembe telling her she must be the one to retrieve the interface for the fulcrum because he could not leave Raymond's side.

Can't they have just a few more minutes of peace before they must speak of it?

"What's her name?"

"DC."

She smiles as she asks the obvious question,"Darn Cat? Damn Cat?"

It makes him chuckle. "Both fitting I assure you. She came one day and decided to stay. It was Dembe that insisted and saw to her care in the beginning. Everyone referred to her as _Dembe's cat_ so often that it stuck. _DC._ I remind her of that often when I wake to find her asleep at the end of the bed."

The image makes her smile, but it fades away seeing the pain behind his eyes. As his thoughts return to the one who is not there.

Dembe.

It is time. They can't leave it unsaid any longer.

"Raymond, I need you to tell me what happened. All of it. I know some but I want you to start from the beginning. Tell me about Dembe."

Tell her about Dembe. Of course she means the scotch that only two had access to. His disappearance that now seems more voluntary than forced. Tell her of the poisoning that occurred within his own walls.

But he would so much rather recount the history of the boy of fourteen he happened to cross paths with. The one that needed saving but who in many ways saved him. He would tell her of where he started from, the despair of that place. How surviving it is nothing short of astonishing.

He would tell her of the boy that grew into the man that became his friend, but there is no time for what he would rather tell her and so he begins speaking of what he hopes one day to forget.

Nothing is left out. The dinner party to unveil his enemy, the sickness already showing signs even then, waking in the triage unit the first time to his eventual discovery of Lou Lou. Realizing the poison was slipped to him at home. In this small apartment that has always been his sanctuary.

She listens without speaking. Her only movement to place her hand on his leg just below his knee. Something, anything to let him know she is there as he tells his tale from somewhere far away. Some place removed from himself in order to get through this impossible thing.

When he falls silent she doesn't immediately speak. Lets the words replay in her mind and begins the task of sorting through the jumble of memories that are in no way complete. She attempts to judge the events as she would any other case until, at last, she focuses on Dembe.

"I have one question."

"Only one, Lizzy? I have a multitude."

"What does your instinct tell you?"

He pauses for a moment and realizes he no longer trusts it. Disconcerting considering it is what has kept him alive all these years. She is studying him, waiting for his answer but he's not sure there is one.

"It appears my instinct is sorely lacking to be-"

"No, don't let anything else influence your answer. Not my actions or Mr. Kaplan's or anyone else. Answer the question."

She won't let him off that easily. Pushes at him as she leans in a bit closer, forcing him to face it. Opening the door to the events that led to the kidnapping, one he'd rather stay closed forever.

"This has nothing to do with you leaving—"

"Perhaps not but your reaction to it does. Answer the question, Raymond. Honestly."

He almost feels trapped in the chair with her sitting so close, facing him and not letting him go. Finally, there is nothing to do but return her gaze and speak the words that are his last hope.

"That it can't be," he whispers, repeating what he said when he had first picked up the bottle as the realization washed over him.

There is some measure of comfort in saying them again even knowing they may one day be proven wrong but it is the only truth he knows about his friend. _It can't be._

"May I ask what your instinct tells you?" Spoken softly and she is somewhat surprised at the question. Her answer is immediate.

"That you should trust in that. He deserves it until we find out differently."

"In my world betrayal is almost expected. The eventuality of it runs through every aspect of this life."

"And sometimes betrayal is simply a wrong choice made in desperation or fear."

Both are acutely aware they are no longer talking about Dembe. More dangerous waters they have strayed into but long overdue as the weeks turned to months and neither chose to go near it.

It should have been her. She knows that and had wanted to talk to him especially after Agnes was found, but she left it alone. It was easier to cloak herself in anger instead of acknowledging the guilt so bitter in her stomach. Easier to let time carry her further from it but all the while it remained there between them. This painful thing that still casts its shadow over them both.

But she can no longer leave the words unspoken.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to—"

"Raymond, I'm sorry," she repeats and refuses to back away from it. Reaching out, she takes his hand, an action she finds easier after what they have been through the past day.

She would list every single thing that hurts her in this moment if she could. Tell him of every action she regrets but she would break under the recitation. "Sometimes it must be said. It has no meaning otherwise."

"And I will say the same, Elizabeth," he murmurs, returning the pressure of her hand.

Impossible words and still some that can't be spoken just yet, but perhaps they won't be so fearful to go near them again. Oh, how she hopes that will be true.

"Tomorrow I will meet you at the triage unit for your x-ray then we will start to sort through this. Together, if it's all the same to you."

He chuckles knowing she really does have a point.

"Helen will be here soon and she'll be available if you need—"

"Lizzy, it's alright. The time has come for you to go home to Agnes. I'll see you in the morning."

He wants to make it easier for her or perhaps himself. A quick goodbye then a few minutes alone with his thoughts before the nurse returns. At last she pulls away to gather her belongings and he watches her a moment before finally rising.

_What a difference a day makes._ Indeed and he fervently hopes this day will be the one where they begin to put things right.

There is not much left to say at least for tonight and as she joins him at the door neither speaks. As he so often does now he lets her lead the way and after a moment or two she pulls him close to her. Doesn't let go but holds on tighter and he does the same.

At last she backs away to search his expression. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will, Lizzy."

There is no hesitation as she brushes her lips against his cheek and as she takes the first step away from him, feels his hand take her own and watches as he bring it to his lips. She has no idea how long she holds his gaze after he releases her hand but eventually she turns to leave, making it only a few steps into the corridor.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

There is no explanation for the flutter in her stomach as she turns back with a questioning look.

"My pants," he says, smiling at her expression.

There is laughter, realizing she had forgotten all about them.

"They're in Dembe's room. I figured you wouldn't go in there until you were ready."

She still surprises him after all this time, and he watches as she disappears around the corner before softly closing the door.

She doesn't know just then the unexpected tears that will fall on the drive home. The ones that won't go unnoticed when she walks into her apartment. She has no idea that she will give voice to more than she can imagine before the night is over. Words from deep inside, hidden even from herself. She has no way of knowing that once she hears them in her own voice she will be changed forever and he will leave for the final time.

If only Raymond knew he will speak with her before the morning but he has no idea his phone will ring as he lies awake in bed. That he will know what has happened simply by the tone of her voice. _Talk to me until I fall asleep._ No acknowledgement of what transpired or why she is alone but for her daughter asleep at her side. He will do as she asks and talk to her until his whispered _Lizzy_ goes unanswered.

She will tell him in the morning.


End file.
